The Shark Toothed Regalia
by SoraxLight
Summary: He came from the Far Shore. The ever so pure spirit's eyes gleamed a crimson red, his hair challenged the color of powdered snow, and his teeth... his teeth were incredibly similar to that of a shark's. However, it was not his appearance that truly baffled the pigtailed god. It was how well this former human could mask every painful emotion that stung at her, staining her skin.
1. Chapter 1

The city had been dimmed by the fall of night, and the temperatures only plummeted from there. It has always been dangerous for a god to travel without a Regalia. The pigtailed god was aware of her circumstances, and skillfully blended herself into the shadows. Watching her breath fade into the air, she recollected releasing her previous Regalia under their request, claiming that she was far too bossy to stand. If Maka hoped to survive, she would have to find a new Regalia for herself.

She stood from behind a few boxes that had conveniently been laid down next to a brick wall. It was easy to forget the eeriness of night when with others, but standing in the open was just uncomfortable. Maka found her way around the darkened town silently, searching for any lost spirits that had a will to keep living. It had only taken a short while before she stumbled upon a small floating light. Rubbing her cold hands together, she could sense that it was a boy, perhaps in his late teens. Although this could pose as a difficult task, the spirit seemed so innocent and honest. Her sympathy consumed her. She had to guide this spirit.

She brought her hand up and began writing the kanji that would be his name.

"You, with nowhere to go and nowhere to return... I grant you a place to belong. My name is Maka. Bearing a posthumous name, you shall remain here. With this name, I make thee my servant. With this name and its alternate, I use my life to make thee a Regalia! Thou art Tamashii! As Regalia, Húnki!" she stated clearly, "Come, Húnki!"

With a flash of light into the brisk air, a sharpened scythe placed itself into the god's hands. Before she could admire its form, memories of the boy's life flooded her mind. From pianos to motorcycles, she could see everything up to his murder. The horror and desperation he felt did nothing but bring tears to her eyes. Blinking the droplets away was not an option at this point. With her sleeve, she quickly wiped them away and gazed upon the scythe that resided in her hands.

Her assumptions proved to be correct. The boy was a pure spirit, and it reflected in his honed blade. She was lucky to have chosen this spirit over the others.

"It's nice to meet you, Tamashii," she greeted, releasing her grip and watching the Regalia return to his human form, "less formally, Tamashiide."

His crimson eyes flickered from various parts of his new found body with interest and surprise. The pigtailed god found herself ingraining every part of his appearance into her memory from his white, messy hair to his shark-like teeth and white robe.

"My name is Maka, and I am your new master," she stated kindly, holding out her hand, "I called to you from the Far Shore, so that you may serve as my Regalia."

The boy slowly looked up at her before grabbing her hand firmly, "Tamashii, eh? Call me Soul, and we've got a deal."

Slightly offended by his distaste in the name she picked out for him, she silently agreed to his request.

* * *

After bringing Soul to her apartment, she was able to feed and clothe the boy. He seemed to be at ease by now, seeing as he now slouched around the room and lazily gave passing remarks on the decorations. In fact, he already began to get on her nerves...

With a huff, Maka reciprocated, "As a Regalia, you're supposed to respect me. That includes my 'tacky' décor."

"Look, if I'm gonna live here, I should at least get a say in what the place looks like..."

"I think it looks fine, thank you very much!"

"Whatever. Where am I gonna sleep?"

"The bedroom has two beds. Mine is by the window, yours is by the wall," she explained before adding, "please don't snore."

"You got it, master," Soul replied before casting himself upon the mattress.

The new found Regalia found himself unable to sleep that night, pressed with questions about how he got there. All he could remember was suddenly being in Maka's hand. He knew he died, but many questions remained unanswered, questions that only she could answer.

His crimson eyes trailed to the god in the dark. Watching her chest slowly rise and fall, he found a sense of peacefulness through her deep breathes. Soon, he found himself becoming drowsy, and fell asleep.

* * *

The banging of pans brought Soul back to consciousness. It was fairly early in the morning, judging by the fact he could see the soft sunlight seep through the window. With a groan, Soul sat up and pushed himself out of bed.

Once in the kitchen, he found the pigtailed god standing on a chair, reaching desperately for some object hidden by the shadows of the cupboard. Shuffling forward for a better view, he noticed that he could see up her skirt. Soul could feel his face flush in that moment. All of his senses told him to look away, but his eyes seemed to be locked in place.  
"Ow!" Maka hissed, grabbing at the nape of her neck.

A sharp glare followed suit. Her emerald eyes pierced through Soul, causing him to step back a couple feet.

Her tone was steadily becoming more dangerous as she spoke, "Soul, what were you just thinking?"

"What'dya mean?" He asked, looking away from her penetrating stare, "It looked like you needed help reaching for somethin'."

"Gods and Regalia share mind and body! I know you just had a bad thought!"

"Could you stop assuming I'm some creep, already? It's annoying..."

With a huff, the god turned back to her duty of cooking breakfast. Would she regret allowing a human boy into her home? She hoped not.

"Do you like eggs?" she asked, not turning to face him.

"Hmm?" Soul lazily stared at the back of her head, "I'm dead, so why should I eat?"

"I don't have to feed you, if that's what you'd like."

"That's not what I meant at all!"

"Eggs and Bacon it is."

An uncomfortable silence fell over the table as the two ate their breakfast. Attempting to analyze one another, neither the god or the Regalia could find a word to say. Soul quickly found that he, despite being from the supposed Far Shore, enjoyed eating immensely. He took pleasure in chewing each bit of bacon with his abnormally sharp teeth, daring not to lock eyes with the god that took him in.

"We need to take jobs today," Maka stated, looking up from her food, "Mostly, students ask me for homework help, so it's nothing intense."

Soul nearly choked on his food. Could he really have been paired with a god this boring? He'd never taken a liking to homework, and refused to start now:"Homework help? So not cool..."

"Soul!" Maka scolded, boring her eyes once more into his skull.

"Right, right. You're the god. Let's get going."

"I wasn't done yet. Now that I have you, more jobs are available. That includes executing phantoms."

"Phantoms?"

"Yeah, they're basically demons. Like you, they come from the Far Shore. The difference is that phantoms influence the living and those on the Near Shore to do evil deeds. For example, they can cause humans to commit suicide."

Soul could feel a shiver run up his spine. Were these spirits really that powerful? Were they just like him? Why would they do such things?

"...So, we're going to kill them?" He asked, focusing on keeping his face relaxed.

Maka stirred the contents in her cup calmly, "Yes, we're going to kill them."

"No questions asked? No attempt to redeem their souls?" He pressed.

She paused and raised an eyebrow, unsure of what he meant, "What do you mean by 'redeeming' their souls?"

"Tell me, do gods value the lives of those on the Far Shore?"

"Soul, phantoms aren't human anymore. We can't let them go on."

"I'm not human anymore. Would you kill me without hesitation?"

She had never been asked this before. This wasn't something she was used to. Every Regalia she had cared for would answer to her beckon call without a second thought. There was no redemption for such demons, she thought.

"N-no. You aren't like them at all. Phantoms are nothing but demons, you'll see."

Maka stood up from the table and turned to leave before she felt another stabbing sensation in the back of her neck. She reached to grab at it and hissed audibly. Upon looking to Soul, she expected to see a raging child, but found a very aloof look on his face. She could only assume he was concealing his emotions. Maka opened her mouth to berate her foolish Regalia, but couldn't find the words to say. Instead, she grasped one of the notes that had been written to her and set it out for Soul to see.

"Let's just fulfill an easy wish. If you're good, I'll get you something from the store."

Soul's lazy, crimson eyes fell upon the paper. In his anger, he said nothing, but decided on reading the wish. The human who wrote it didn't seem to have it too rough, as it only read "God Maka, I'm terrible at Algebra, but I have a test tomorrow! Please tutor me!"

Maka took his silence as an agreement. She pulled her coat on and waited by the door for Soul.

* * *

As expected, Soul found himself to be incredibly bored. The student didn't even seem to notice him, despite his attempts of intimidation. If only the lesson would pass by quicker, he could remove himself from this cramped apartment. The dingy walls, the cluttered piles of cardboard boxes, the tacky cat decorations, and the dull colors all swam around him as he cornered himself by a window. Soul slid his sweaty hands restlessly into the pockets of the jacket his god had given him and watched as she ever so calmly taught the clueless student how to solve algebraic equations. In a way, it was mesmerizing how simple she made everything seem. At the same time, he couldn't trust her. If she could kill those like him without a hitch, how could he? It would be unethical, to say the least.

In that moment, Maka glanced back at Soul, causing him to jump out of his skin. She knew, didn't she? She knew all of his thoughts and he couldn't do a damn thing about it! She'd already caught him looking up her skirt; inner monologues would be no trouble for her to read at all! Soul's heart began to race inside of his chest. His sweaty hands twitched in his pockets as he struggled to remain placid.

She gave a soft smile in his direction before flipping a light pigtail over her shoulder and continuing her work. Soul felt his shoulders droop with relief. There was no way she could read all of his thoughts. It was insane to think so. He released a heavy sigh and waited until she was done with her job. After all, they were going to the store after this. All he had to do was sit and do nothing for a couple hours.


	2. Chapter 2

She regretted it.

She regretted purchasing that dammed device for her Regalia. Ever since she gifted him with that music player, he hasn't listened to a word she has had to say. Quite simply, she was flustered. She watched as the cords dangled from Soul's ears lazily. They suited his personality perfectly. By the way he stared off into the unknown, it seemed he wasn't in the room with her. Who knew music could have such an effect on a person?

As Soul's fingers tapped along with his tunes, Maka cringed ever so slightly at the volume of his music. She supposed she couldn't blame him. After all, he was a musician in his human life. She figured he would enjoy having music in his life again, but she was uncertain what he would remember if she had allowed him to play piano. The safer path was to simply give him a way to listen to music once more.

"Soul," she croaked from across the room.

No response, as expected.

"Soul!"

The albino slowly peered in her direction. She gestured for him to remove an earphone.

"Hmm?" he responded.

"Turn it down; I can hear it from over here," Maka grumbled, "and come with me."

Soul slowly stood up with a slouch. "You got it," he said, turning down the music a couple notches, "But where are we going?"

"I want to introduce you to someone.

* * *

It felt as though they had been walking forever. Soul groaned audibly. Why would she make him suffer through this? To get exercise?

"We there yet?" he asked.

"Soul, we've only walked a block..."

The albino found himself slouching even further. He wouldn't make it. With a quick glance over her shoulder, Maka noticed him falling behind. He must have still been angry with her over the phantoms. What a childish human. Without looking, the God grabbed his hand and began pulling him along with her. No matter how irritating he might have come off as, he was defenseless without knowing how to create a boundary, and he was her responsibility.

As she quickened her pace, Maka began to notice the finer details about her Regalia. She could tell his hands were slightly rough, even through their sloppy grip on each other. They were comfortingly warm. It made sense, since he always seemed to cram them in his pockets. It was surprising, however, that he didn't pull away. Perhaps he wasn't as cool and tough as he made himself out to be.

The two soon approached a rather large and sophisticated building. Soul couldn't quite put his finger on what was odd about the place. Perhaps he was still on edge about this whole Regalia thing, but he couldn't find it in himself to shake off the uncanny feeling of the house.

"We're here," Maka smiled.

"Huh? Oh," Soul stuttered, detracted from his thoughts

The pigtailed god sighed almost silently, for she assumed he had turned up his music once more. Releasing her grip on his hand, she knocked on the pristine door. Soul made a fist with his now empty hand. It seemed remarkably chilly without something to occupy the space.

"Maka, where are we?" he asked, his face remaining inexpressive.

The door soon opened, and out of it showed a refined man. His neat, black hair held three white stripes on his left side. His searching eyes were an alarmingly prominent yellow. Soon, his stone face warmed itself with the gentlest of smiles.

"Ah, you're perfectly on time," he stated before locking eyes with Soul, "And you must be Soul. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Maka turned to her Regalia, "Soul, this is Death the Kid, the god of balance."

Soul quickly observed this young man. He was another god. Did this mean he did not care for those from the Far Shore? His bright eyes seemed so cold and calm.

"Yeah," he smoothly spoke, extending a hand.

Kid took his hand and firmly shook it. While the gesture was nice, he noticed that Kid's other hand twitched uncomfortably. Bizarre.

"Please, come in." the god invited, opening his door wide.

Maka smoothly made her way into the dwelling, her gaze softer than ever. It was just now, as Soul followed her through the doorway, that he realized that Maka had been the only one to communicate with him since he woke in the Near Shore. He was terrible with people.

Maka gestured for Soul to sit next to her in the immaculate room. As he shuffled to her side, he began noticing the stunning works of art, especially the sculptures and origami decorating the room. Upon closer inspection, it seemed that these sculptures were made from a variety of materials. Some seemed professional, others were built from the strangest of household items. In fact, he was sure the sculpture of the dragon was crafted from napkins. Nonetheless, all of them were beautifully put together.

Kid sat across from the two and spoke up,"You wanted to speak with me about something, correct?"

Maka nodded almost immediately, "Yes. Could we speak alone, though?" Her eyes shifted from her Regalia to the other god.

With a quick glance at the albino boy, Kid nodded, "Come with me. Soul, help yourself to the food on the table."

With that, the two gods left Soul on his own. He restlessly shifted in the chair. This room resembled the house itself in the fact it seemed abnormal, however, he couldn't understand what made it so peculiar. He looked down at the snacks laid neatly on the table. There was an assortment of cheeses, crackers, meats, fish, and tea. Soul stared at the raw fish for a moment. He couldn't recall ever trying it before, but he was certain Maka didn't like it. There was no way to tell if it was truly bad if he never tried it, though, so he quietly grabbed a fork and stabbed it into a piece of the raw fish. Just as he brought the fish to his lips, he could make out the silhouettes of two woman down the hall. It seemed as if they were stepping in unison, each of their movements gracefully complimenting the each other. From what he could see, one of the silhouettes was taller than the other. The taller silhouette's movements were calm and mature, while the shorter silhouette's movements were capricious and full of energy.

Soul found himself frozen on the couch with the fish near his gaping mouth as the two approached. For once, he desperately wished he had his god with him. She would know what to do, and if these silhouette's were dangerous.

"The fish won't bite, you know," said one of the silhouettes. Her voice was firm and full of confidence. Soul could only assume it was the taller of the two.

"I wasn't aware more than one person lived here," he replied, keeping his cool.

The two women now came into view, revealing their incredibly similar qualities. Their eyes shared an enchanting blue color, and their hair colors were different shades of blonde. The taller woman's hair was a duller shade of blonde, and was far longer than her counter part's. The shorter girl, however, held a radiating tint of blonde in her hair. Together, it seemed their differences balanced each other out in an aesthetically pleasing way.

The mature counterpart made her way to the couch and plopped down carelessly. "Surprise. There's three of us," she said, "my little sister and I are Kid's Regalia. We were told to show you the ropes. What's your name?"

"It's Soul."

"Alright Soul, I'm Liz, and this is Patty."

Soul was becoming more and more suspicious by the moment, and set the fish back down.

"What do you mean by 'showing me the ropes.' All I have to do is protect my god, right?"

"Do you know how to draw a boundary?"

"A what?"  
"We're showing you the ropes."

Finally, as Liz was about to stand, her younger sister piped up.

"Let's go outside! Come on, outside! Outside!" she cheered, pointing to a sliding door.

"Good idea, Patty," Liz praised, "we wouldn't want Kid throwing a fit like last time."

Soul began wondering what Kid could have thrown a fit about. A little mess? He made his way to the door, but turned back to look inside, and everything suddenly made sense. The reason the house seemed so odd to him.

"It's symmetrical!" he shouted suddenly. How could he not have noticed. The god of balance values symmetry.

"What else is new?" Liz scoffed, seeming disgusted with the word.

Words fell out of Soul's mouth subconsciously, "This is insane. Who has the time to focus on this kind of crap?"

"That's our Kid for you!" Patty gleefully added.

Soul turned to look outside. Unsurprisingly, the garden was just as immaculate as the interior of the house. Every flower on one side of the garden was matched with a twin on the other side. The colors diffused softly from each petal and surrounded a soft pond. Even the water lilies held a coequal. He had to hand it to Kid, this place was the perfect embodiment of balance.

"Well, you ready to learn how to draw a boundary?" Liz asked, breaking the peaceful silence.

"I don't think I have a choice," Soul smiled a little at the two girls' enthusiasm, "Let's do it."


	3. Chapter 3

Her hand cut swiftly through the air.

"Border!"

A glowing wall then appeared. It seemed pointless, no matter how pleasing it was to look at. Eventually, the light dimmed, and the wall faded into thin air once more. Well, Soul thought it should be pointless, however, he found his mouth to be gaping wide open in astonishment.

"Do it again," he said, a little too eagerly.

"No way, it's your turn," Liz said.

"But I don't know h-" Soul started, but found himself cut off by a familiar voice.

"It's easy," Maka said, emerging from the dwelling, "Let me show you."

The pigtailed god made her way over to the group and extended her thumb, middle, and index finger, forming something that resembled a peace symbol.

"First, make a halberd with your hand; like this," she held her hand up for Soul to see clearly.

Soul quickly held the same position as his god and waited for approval.

"Good. Now, all you have to do is draw a line between you and the phantom," she drew a line in the air, but to Soul's surprise, no wall appeared.

"Hey, nothing happened!" he nearly gasped.

Maka patiently started to explain, "That's because I'm a god. This technique is something only a Regalia can do."

"Yeah, it's how we protect ourselves." Patty interjected.

"Now, let's see you try," Maka encouraged.

With a deep breath, Soul reformed the halberd position in his hand, and swiped a line through the air. He jumped with surprise when the technique actually worked, and stared at his boundary with wide eyes. The blue lights flared like fire before him, and the wall they formed seemed so bold and strong. This was something that made him unique.

The albino Regalia stole a glance at Maka, and found that she was grinning with something that resembled pride. Satisfaction welled up inside of him.

"He did it! He did it!" Patty cheered from somewhere in the distance.

"It wasn't that amazing," Liz mumbled, "but I guess he did a good job,"

"Soul, this is amazing," Maka finally chirped, putting her nose awfully close to the flickering lights, "Good job!"

A sudden warmth filled his cheeks, and he felt the need to look away, "Ah, it was nothin'. Really," he answered.

The god's eyes widened slightly, "You aren't going to gloat about how cool it is?"

"Cool?" Soul's mouth formed a wide, cheeky smile, "Yeah... I like that. It's pretty cool, huh?"

He liked that word.

He was cool.

* * *

Back in the large house, Soul's eyes fixated on Patty's skilled fingers as they expertly folded napkins into what appeared to be a dog. It certainly explained all of the eccentric art placed around the room. He found it difficult to focus on Kid's speech about storms or whatever. He could swear he was feeling his eyes droop ever so slowly.

Soul jumped at the feeling of Maka's elbow prodding at his side.

"Huh?" he gawked suddenly.

"Pay attention," she whispered.

His eyes trailed from Maka's disapproving stare to Kid, who seemed to be fairly patient with him. The contrast between them was almost startling. He shoved his hands back into his pockets and attempted to focus on Kid.

"Whatever," he groaned.

"As I was saying, it looks like a storm should strike right about here tonight," the golden-eyed god gestured to a spot on the city map. It seemed like the spot was close to Kid's house – perhaps a block away.

"And what do we do about it?" Soul inquired.

"It seems as though this storm will be rather large, so I want you and Maka to assist in eliminating some phantoms that will emerge," Kid responded without missing a beat, "I think it will be good practice for Soul."

However, Soul's heart skipped. The thought of killing someone so similar to him was absolutely horrifying. He began balling up his fists inside his sweatshirt, a seemingly new found habit. Looking back to his god, he noticed she was rubbing her neck again, but she wouldn't look at him.

She finally spoke up after removing her hand, "We'll do all we can."

The other god nodded and grinned softly, "Thank you. All of your help is appreciated. By the way, Soul, your boundary looks to be quite powerful. Well done. I hope Liz and Patti were able to help?"

"Yeah, they were great," he murmured.

Kid hummed for a minute, golden eyes searching for something in Soul. Something about Maka's choice in Regalia caused him a shred of worry.

"If that's the case, feel free to visit at any time," he offered, "I hope to see you both tonight."

Maka rose from her chair and waited for Soul to do the same. He was slow to stand, as usual.

"Bye-bye, Soul! It was nice meetin' you!" blurted Patti as the new Regalia made his way out of the building.

"Yeah, you too," he smirked in response.

Kid waited until Soul had made it outside before speaking, "Maka,"

She was just about to step foot outside before turning her head to stare at her friend.

"If it gets to be too much, don't push yourself."

With a nod, Maka turned on her heel and quietly exited the house. She found herself determined at this point. Every previous release of a Regalia ended with a fear of their homeless wandering, and possible corruption, or even death. More often than not, her ex Regalia would cease further communication with her, leaving her imagination to do its dirty work. She fervently wished to protect this Regalia, even if he hated her. If he left, she would allow Kid to care for him.

She cast her eyes forward and examined Soul's posture. He was slouching more than usual, and had recently placed a single ear-bud into his right ear. He certainly seemed stressed about his transition into this lifestyle, but this was not her worst experience with a stressed Regalia.

"Hey, Soul?"

He slowed and turned to face her.

"Would you like to see a phantom? You won't have to kill it if you don't want to."

At first, only an eyebrow dared to rise, but he eventually nodded.

"Come here," she said quickly.

Her footsteps were light as she made her way to a bench. Examining it from each side, she eventually crouched down beside it and waited for Soul. There couldn't possibly be a phantom beneath the bench, right? Soul exhaled and tried to reason that phantoms must be invisible to him, and that's why he's never seen one.

"Is it invisible?" he questioned.

"Of course not!" her hand reached back and pulled him down next to her, "Look."

It took only a moment for Soul to notice the orange scorpion crawling around underneath the bench. It looked so ordinary that it was nearly impossible to tell that it was transparent. If these phantoms were so small, why was it necessary to kill them?

"Maka, if these things are so terrible, why don't you just step on it?" he drawled.

He watched her huff audibly, "Don't be stupid. I'm not going to put you up against something dangerous for your first time. Besides, if you listen closely, you can hear it speak, so it really is dangerous to those from the Near Shore," she softened her eyes as the scorpion-like phantom skittered around without a care, "They don't even get a chance. They can't even see these things, otherwise, they'd know it's not really their thoughts. Humans are so easily manipulated."

A bright flare caused the pigtailed god to jump. Her eyes readjusted quickly, and she realized that Soul's border had now created a wall between her and the phantom.

"Then we'll just have to teach these guys a lesson," Soul began, "It's not cool to play tricks on the living like that."

Maka stood up slowly, a small smile forming on her lips, "You believe me, now? You know, about how you're nothing like a phantom?"

"Yeah, I guess," he reluctantly said, shoving his hands back in his pockets, "We'll see how I feel once I see more."

"Alright, then let's help Kid out with the storm tonight."

"Fine, but I don't know how to transform into a weapon."

"Leave that part to me. All you have to do is stick close."

She looked to the sky and saw a mist just beginning to form. If Kid hadn't pointed it out, it would have been undetectable. A light wind swept around her and her Regalia, and the chill from it was enough to send a shiver down her spine. It seemed that this storm would be larger than usual.

"Maka? You comin'?" Soul asked.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Did you want to eat before the storm hits?"

"Is that even a question?"

* * *

After devouring approximately the entirety of Maka's fridge, Soul had finally plopped down in the couch and began listening to his music once more. While absorbing himself in every soothing instrument, he took deep breathes in an attempt to calm his nerves. He found himself staring at his god, who was invested in a new book of hers.

"Hey, Maka?"

"Hm?"

"Earlier, you said Kid was the god of balance, right?"

She nodded into her book, "Mhmm."

"So... what kind of god are you?"

The question was enough to cause her to peel her eyes away from the page she was reading, "Uhh, I'm a god of bravery."

Soul's eyes widened accordingly, "Really? I thought you were some kind of tutor god!"

"I get that a lot. Why did you want to know?"

"Aren't I supposed to know everything about my god? That was one of the rules, right?"

"I thought you were 'too cool' for rules."

"Cool guys can play by the rules, too," he huffed, "So, what does a god of bravery do?"

She took a moment to ponder the question, "Well, I'm not as useful as you would think, but I did help a bit in the past. Normally, war leaders would need my help motivating an army, or protesters would need encouragement while they put their lives on the line. A lot of the time, humans would wish for courage to talk to someone they like," she paused again, "Sometimes people would need the courage to run into a burning house to save their loved ones. It's amazing how much a human can do with a little coaxing, yet they seem to think I've done something magnificent."

"Not as useful as I would think? Maka, without you, the world would be incredibly different!"

"It's not me that did any of those things. Humans just need a little push sometimes, that's all."

"But they wouldn't have done those things without you."

"They might have. Maybe a god of love would have helped them. After all, the power of love is famously powerful."

"Yeah, well, the war leaders might have not fought for love."

"That's true. A lot of them fought for power. Maybe even wealth? I shouldn't have helped those leaders, but I did."

"Why would you help someone you hate?"

"For fame. An unpopular god is a doomed one."

"Doomed?"

She rose from her seat, eyes pressed to the clock, "I'll tell you later. It's almost time."

A shot of adrenaline pierced Soul's body. He'd almost forgotten that he'd have to face more phantoms. If they were similar to the scorpion he saw earlier, this would be a breeze, but the fact that he was a scythe hinted to something ominous.

He didn't much like the feeling.


	4. Chapter 4

The sharp winds stung at Soul's face the faster he ran. Clouds shrouded the glow of the moon from his view, and it seemed that the street lights flickered more violently with every step. It was unreal how quickly time passed when he was consumed with worry.

"So, how many phantoms are in a storm?" he asked, watching as the back of Maka's coat fluttered in the sharp winds.

"It depends on the size of the storm," she replied with a glance over her shoulder.

Soul craned his neck in several directions, searching for terrifying creatures out of story books. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, though. It was simply dark outside. The streets were vacant from what he could see, and he strained to make out every shadow.

Maka disappeared behind a corner, causing Soul to force himself to run faster. They had to be close by now.

"This is it!" she called.

Soul blinked rapidly, trying to see what lay ahead. Soon, his eyes focused on a blue wolf. Its cyan eyes glowed ghostly in harmony with the quiet night. He would like to say that he liked wolves, but the way this one bared its teeth at him and allowed its fur to stand said otherwise. Maka said these things could speak, right? It seemed so animal-like, so incapable of speech, yet he still felt that there could be a human element to it.

"Where's Kid?" Soul asked, refusing to look away from the possible threat ahead of them.

"Don't worry about him," Maka replied, scanning the grounds ahead, "Worry about the phantom. This one might have come in a pack."

Soul jumped when the phantom lunged at him and Maka. He began drawing a boundary, but found himself cut off when his god called a familiar name.

"Come, Húnki!"

A flash of light blinded his vision, and Soul found that a new warmth enveloped him. When he dared open his eyes, he found that he was now firmly held by Maka. He didn't know how, but he was a scythe.

With quick reflexes, Maka forced his handle between the phantom's fangs and herself.

A quick gasp escaped Soul, "Hey, careful!"

"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing," she promised.

A kick was delivered directly to the phantom's chest, causing it to release Soul. Maka then readjusted her grip before running at the wolf-like phantom. She raised his blade, and brought it down as quickly as possible. Soul felt himself physically cringe as the phantom was reduced to nothing but particles in the air. He could have sworn he heard the softest of whispers in his ear, but he shook off the feeling. This wasn't the last one, so he would bare it for now.

"Are you okay?" Maka asked between pants.

"Yeah," he responded curtly.

She trailed a finger along his blade, examining it closely. Soul was unsure of what to make of the feeling, or why she was so close.

"You're incredibly sharp!" she remarked with excitement.

"What?"

"Most weapons I get are pretty dull. I do my best to house any spirits in need, but sometimes, they end up being incredibly blunt. That situation is especially dangerous to both the god and the Regalia."

He wanted to bask in the pride he felt just then, but he couldn't find the feeling within the cluster of worry he was currently experiencing. He settled on forming a small smile, which Maka most likely couldn't see, but he felt it would suffice, anyways.

"I knew it," Maka whispered, her eyes darting from place to place.

"What?"

"They came in a pack."

If Maka had not said anything, Soul would have missed the glow of the phantoms' beady eyes between the brush. Their low growls created a hum in the chilling air. He could feel Maka's grip slowly tighten around him. She seemed to know exactly how to handle the situation, which was lucky for him. If she was experienced with blunt weapons, managing a sharpened scythe would be a cinch.

She waited for some queue to move her body, but the closer the wolves stalked, the tenser Soul felt. For some reason, even as a hunk of metal, he still felt the stimuli from the outside. Every tooth that had previously bit into his handle left an uncomfortable sensation on his body. Suddenly, Maka jerked her body in a circle, sweeping Soul's blade across each phantom within reach. The way she expertly handled him told him of all the battles she must have previously fought. Her appearance spoke not of this kind of warrior, but rather a slender, pigtailed girl.

Within seconds, each of the wolf-like phantoms burst into soft, glowing particles. It seemed that eliminating phantoms was effortless to his god. He was sure that she had not yet broken a sweat. Her pigtails lashed at the air as she whipped her head in every direction, deciding where to check next. It was then that he noticed floating eyes. Each of them were colored a bright blue color, and they wandered seemingly aimlessly. The image was horrifyingly grotesque, and he swore that they were whispering to him – trying to tell him something. Every voice was distinctly high pitched and off in some manner. His stomach began forming knots at the unsettling atmosphere.

"This way," Maka said, darting in the other direction. It seemed as though she was unaffected by their attempts of communication.

Soul attempted to understand what they were saying, but the words simply didn't register in his mind as Maka carried him farther away.

She ducked reflexively once something bright soared overhead. It landed with a crash that shook the ground.

"The hell was that?" Soul exclaimed, although the answer seemed clear at this point.

Maka stood up before responding, "That's the phantom we're looking for."

Once the creature rose into Soul's view, he found himself swallowing hard. Eight legs had now straightened themselves out, eyes protruded from every corner, and two fangs snapped together menacingly.

"No, that's a spider! Agh, disgusting!" Soul blurted out.

Maka noticeably scrunched up her nose at the sight of the phantom, obviously just as disgusted as her Regalia was at the sight. She would make sure to not prolong this fight.

"Oh, there you two are. I thought you'd never show!" called a voice somewhere in the distance, "How is Soul holding up?"

As expected, Kid had not even a speck of dirt on his clothing. He seemed so collected in the face of something as atrocious as the phantom that lie before them. The darkness of night seemed to blend him in with the shadows, as if he fit perfectly into this picture. To Soul, he appeared to be just as mysterious as the scenery was.

"We're doing fine," Maka replied with a smile.

Kid returned the gesture, "That's what I like to hear."

"We're going to head in. I want to get this over with quickly."

"Likewise, we'll have time to chat later."

With a final nod, Maka swooped in towards the oversized phantom. She would be careful to avoid blighting Soul and herself.

Immediately, the spider-like being lashed its fangs out at her. Skillfully, she tucked her body away from the sharp edges and searched for a weak point. In the distance, she could hear gunshots ringing out. With each shot, another hole punctured the phantom. Once she made her way underneath the phantom, she prepared herself to cut deeply into its abdomen, but she felt Soul jerk in her grasp.

 _"Don't kill me! Please!"_ echoed a distorted voice.

Soul's mouth felt dry. He heard it. That voice came from the very thing he was going to kill. It was still human, wasn't it?

"Soul?" Maka squeaked.

Before Soul could respond, they were both knocked back by one of the phantom's appendages. Maka recovered quickly and kept her grip on Soul firm. He could tell she was holding her tongue. Somehow, she could sense his emotions, he noted. She proceeded to dash back at the phantom with more vigor. For her, he would push out the disturbing thoughts that loomed over him, even if for a moment. They had a higher chance of success that way.

He noticed that her grip on him was much tighter this time. She obviously predicted another slip up in their teamwork, and was prepared to do what it took to stay alive. They soon approached the monstrosity of a phantom once more. Soul wanted to clasp his hands tightly over his ears when the voice reached him at a staggering volume this time.

 _"Please! No!"_

He wouldn't dwell on it. This thing was trying to kill him, and that's all he needed to know. That's all he needed to think about.

"It's okay, Soul," Maka called to Soul, "it's okay to be afraid,"

She gracefully ducked underneath another swipe made by the phantom. If he dared to say anything at this point, he would seem weak. He feared that his voice would quiver, so he settled on giving the shortest response possible.

"I'm not afraid," he nearly choked.

In a split second, he realized that Maka had cut through the phantom at the same time Kid made his final shot. The pleas of the phantom continued to ring in his ears endlessly. This emotion he felt was a sickening form of guilt. Phantoms weren't supposed to speak. They just weren't. Perhaps it was attempting to manipulate him. He was originally from the Near Shore, after all.

"Revert, Tamashii,"

His human form felt so fragile and exposed. Maka's gaze bore into him, searching. However, he did not want to be searched. He refused to let anyone pry on the matter until he sorted out his own emotions. Two blondes came into view, Liz and Patty. By first glance, he knew they were practiced. Things like this did not faze them. It was a part of life for them. He only slouched further.

"Soul-" Maka started.

"Later."

She let out a sigh, and her shoulders drooped. He knew that she had done no wrong. If that creature was allowed to exist, it would have taken more lives. He knew that by now, so why did he feel such guilt?

A pale hand fell on his shoulder.

"You did well today," Kid congratulated. He didn't seem as stiff this time, and his golden eyes were not piercingly sharp. It was almost as if he understood how Soul felt.

"You too," Soul responded. He now thought to his music player, and how desperately he wished to listen to the music it played. No matter how confusing things were, he found a certain comfort in every note and lyric within each song. Perhaps he enjoyed music in his old life, too.

* * *

He wasn't sure how long he had been lying there, but it must have been hours. Maka hadn't said a word to him on the way home, which most likely was out of respect for his feelings. It was normal for her to scold him about how loud he played his music, but tonight, she was silently reading on the opposite side of the room. Her hair dripped occasionally, dampened from her recent shower. Soul wondered whether or not she could hear the voices, or if it was another trait of Regalia. If she could, she was great at masking it.

He envied her calmness. Just how many years has she lived? His stomach was currently somersaulting, and there she was fixing her droopy eyes on a dog-eared page. Occasionally, he noticed, she would glance at him. It was so quick and subtle that it almost went undetected by him, but his nerves were working at such an insane pace that everything seemed exaggerated. At this point, he was sure that he had drenched his sweatshirt in, well, sweat. It was amazing how much emotions could make one perspire.

His gaze moved to the clock. If he practiced breathing, perhaps the nausea would pass. Carefully, he paced his breathing to the rhythm of several ticks. Before he knew it, he had fallen into a slumber on the couch.

However, his sleep was light, and he soon regained consciousness to find that the lights were off, and a blanket had been placed on top of him. He assumed that the blanket was unnecessary due to his earlier situation, but the thought put into the action itself was comforting. As he sat up, he soon became aware of the cool air hitting his skin, and realized that his sweatshirt had been removed. Once his eyes adjusted, he found that Maka had not left the room, and that she was sound asleep on the other couch. Her book was placed neatly on the table beside her.

The serene nature of the night did not last long, unfortunately. Soul's stomach took a sharp turn, and he ran as quickly as he could to the bathroom, nearly tripping on several obstacles sprawled out on the floor. The pleas of the phantom echoed loudly in his mind, and guilt welled up inside of his gut. This wasn't something he knew how to handle. His emotions were wild and out of line. He killed a monster - not a human, not a Regalia, not even a god. So then why did he feel this way?

Soul heaved loudly, and released the contents of his stomach. The acidic feel only made the sensation more unpleasant. Several moments later, he heard light footsteps behind him, then felt a gentle hand place itself on his back. He turned slightly to face his god, who hummed words of comfort. Yet, he found himself left with another question:

Why did she rub her neck so often?


End file.
